


Don't Do This to Me

by HazelNMae



Category: Peaky Blinders (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Gun Violence, mentions of violence and blood
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-16
Updated: 2019-08-16
Packaged: 2020-09-02 11:11:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 953
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20274958
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HazelNMae/pseuds/HazelNMae
Summary: Written for the prompt: “Wake up, wake up! No no no, don’t do this to me!”





	Don't Do This to Me

The gunshot bounced off every hard surface on the street. It would have left anyone else incapacitated, the sheer volume of it loud enough to pierce the ears of even the most experienced shooter.

But Tommy couldn’t hear it.

He was too busy rushing to your side as he watched your small frame collapse to the ground. 

Arthur had been next you behind the car, so he flung the door open as Tommy slid beside you, providing you both with cover. 

The pain was excruciating, though it wasn’t the first time you’d been shot.

You’d worked for the Shelby organization for a while now, one of the few women Tommy allowed to wear a flat cap and carry a gun. 

He’d hired you because your femininity and rough and tumble attitude presented a paradox he couldn’t quite understand. A balance of delicate and tough that intrigued him.

But after a short time in his employ, Tommy realize there was much more to you than either of these ideas, and he backed off his advances viewing you as an unreachable enigma he’d never deserve.

He should have fired you knowing you could do better than work for a bunch of criminals. But he couldn’t stand to part with you and kept you on the payroll for purely selfish reasons. 

And now, he regretted it.

He lifted you off the ground and cradled you in his arms. He ducked behind the car door as he placed you on the seat and slid in beside you. 

You were awake, but barely, feeling yourself slip in and out of coherence. 

You felt the weight and warmth of him on the seat beside you; felt the car buzz as he turned the engine; were jostled about when he backed up, ducking to avoid the free fire that buzzed around the car. He slammed the pedal to the floor of the car and took off down the road, leaving his brother in charge of the gunfight.

He kept sneaking glances at you as he maneuvered the cobbled streets. You made eye contact with him a few times, but eventually succumbed to the pain and found yourself unable to fight the sleep any longer.

“Wake up,” he said shaking your leg. “Wake the fuck up!”

He was starting to panic, but you no longer heard him.

“No no no, (Y/N), don’t do this to me!” He yelled, spinning the car into a stop in front of the hospital.

Tommy burst through the door, carrying you in his arms and yelling for help. Your blood had soaked through your shirt and was seeping into his own, but he didn’t flinch at the sight of it.

“I need a fucking doctor, NOW!”

You heard him shout, and opened your eyes to find his piercing blue ones staring back. 

“Fuckin’ hell,” he said, stopping his movements and looking you over. “Hold on (Y/N).”

It was the last thing you remembered as you fell into a deep sleep.

The bright tin lights and sterile white ceiling were the first things you saw when you awoke twelve hours later. 

Your throat was dry and you couldn’t speak, but you were able to move your head enough to take in your surroundings. On your right was a small table with various instruments, gauze, bandaging, and the like strewn about. The clothes you’d been wearing were thrown over a bench at the foot of your bed and a small vase of flowers sat beside them. 

But on your left sat Tommy. He’d pulled a chair right up to your bedside and had leaned over it. His hand gripped yours and his face was hidden in the crook of his arm. He was sleeping.

“Hey you,” you croaked, barely getting the words out.

But it didn’t matter, because as soon as he heard your voice, cracked or not, he shot up. 

Tommy grabbed your face with both hands and leaned closer to you. His eyes searched your expression as he tried to make sense of what you must be thinking, feeling.

The pain in your stomach ached, but wasn’t unbearable. You assumed you’d been given a healthy dose of morphine and dreaded the moment it wore off. 

Nevertheless, you smiled weakly, giving him all the assurance he needed. 

Then he pressed his lips to yours. 

His kiss was soft but not quite gentile. There was something desperate in the way he kissed you, in the way he pressed his whole face to yours–as if he wanted to occupy the same space you did. And you understood the feeling.

The kiss ignited something inside you had never before let surface. This was Tommy. Tommy. Kissing you.

After that sunk in, you found yourself not wanting to pull away. Instead you gripped his shirt, pulling him closer. He almost tripped into the bed with you but was able to regain his footing before he did. You let your lips fall open allowing his tongue a moment of exploration before yours returned the action in earnest. 

It was the most electrifying kiss you’d ever experienced.

And it was Tommy.

When he finally pulled away, you found yourself grinning from ear to ear like a lovesick school girl. 

“Jesus, Tommy, you have no idea–”

“That’s alright, love,” he said, stroking your hair. “Get some rest.”

“But, don’t we need to talk about–. I mean–”

“Oh, there will be plenty of time for that,” he said with a smirk.

You allowed yourself to slide back into your slumber, exhausted from the exertion–from the sheer energy your realization had drained from you. 

Tommy held your hand as you drifted and you fell asleep hoping to dream of what came next. 


End file.
